


What the Man did for the Boy

by Bunnywest (orphan_account)



Series: The Boy. [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Painful Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Noah would do anything for his boy to keep him safe. Hell, he'd sleep with the devil himself.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I really thought I was done with this verse, but nooo, you all told me I wasn't, and my brain listened, so here I am, after waking up at four a.m. with this fully formed in my brain.  
> You are all filthy enablers, and I hope you're proud of yourself, making me hurt the sheriff so.

They don’t call it slavery, of course.

They call it protective care.

“Humans, with their limited lifespan, simply lack the capacity for long term planning” declares the new werewolf President.

“Left to their own devices, they drink and take drugs, they become overweight, and they fail to take care of themselves on a most basic level. We feel that as Supernatural creatures, we are better able to care for them than they are themselves. And so, we are putting the Werewolf Protective Care Act into place immediately.”

All humans are to be registered, and will be assigned to a wolf carer. They will forfeit their rights to a job and to owning any kind of property.They will be sent where they are told, for their own good. Humans, after all, need someone to tell them what to do.

 

* * *

 

 

But a ‘wolf carer’ sometimes means an internment camp, as Noah Stilinski discovers. As a single father, still grieving over the loss of his wife, he doesn’t even have it in him to fight when he’s told that his eight year old boy will be taken to a different facility, until he’s old enough to be assigned his own permanent carer.

 _To be useful, to be sold_  are the unspoken words.

Humans twelve and under aren’t available to wolves.

It’s quickly discovered that they’re too breakable, their bodies too small, and too many of them have unfortunate ‘accidents’ involving internal bleeding and anal tearing and infection, and it’s all too hard for their ~~owners~~ carers.

John’s well over twelve, so he’s available immediately.

Not all humans are chosen just for sex, he knows that, and he hopes like hell that his former experience in law enforcement will help him stand out as some other kind of useful.

He thinks his prayers have been answered the day an elegant sounding wolf with a ridiculous name picks him out of the lineup, pointing and saying “This is the one who was a sheriff, yes?”

Noah’s brought forwards and the wolf regards him steadily.

“Yes, he’ll do quite nicely I think. Take him to the Rooms, I want to speak with him.”

Noah tenses at the mention of the Rooms – he’d have to be deaf and blind not to know what normally goes on in there, he’s heard the sounds.

New owners who are keen to take their property for a test drive don’t always close the door properly.

New owners normally aren’t kind.

 

* * *

 

 

He’s taken to the rooms, and he sits and waits, ignoring the bed in the corner. He knows if he was smart he’d be lying naked on it, and he’d be taking the chance to prepare himself a little, but he just can’t. He’s never been with a man, and the thought terrifies him.

He’s damned if he’ll be complicit in his own rape.

He starts when the door opens and the man enters. He stands observing Noah for a moment, and he smiles unexpectedly.

“I’m glad to see you took me at my word when I said I wanted to talk” he tells Noah, who just nods.

“My name is Deucalion, and I intend to run this country” he states baldly. “I need a human who’s clever and able to take direction, who knows how to behave in public, and who’s loyal to me. You seem like you have the potential to meet all of those requirements.”

Noah lets out a breath.

“I believe I could, yes” he replies.

Deucalion holds up his hand. “There’s more. As a wolf, I need physical release often, and I don’t have time for relationships. You would provide that release for me, willingly.”

He watches Noah carefully, and sees him pale.

“The thought disturbs you” he states.

“It damned well terrifies me, and I don’t know if I can do it. “ Noah replies honestly.  

Deucalion looks through the file he’s holding as if he doesn’t know exactly what’s inside it.

“You have a son” he observes.

Noah’s head shoots up at that.

“Please, he’s too young, leave him out of this” he pleads.

Deucalion looks at him consideringly.

“I’m not a monster Noah, believe me. I have no interest in your boy. And I want more than just a fucktoy.

 So I have a proposal for you.  A sort of quid pro quo, if you will. Now, I could take you as my pet, and I could do whatever I wanted to you, and nobody would care. But I take no pleasure in fighting for what I want. So here’s my offer. You submit to me, you give me access to your body without protest, and in return I let you see your son twice a year. And I make sure he’s kept safe until he’s twelve.”

There’s no decision to make, really.

Noah’s voice shakes as he says “You swear you’ll keep him safe?’

“You have my word as a Senator” Deucalion assures him.

It’s the word of a politician, thinks Noah, but it’s the only assurance he has, so he grabs it with both hands, for Stiles’ sake.

“Twice a year, and a photo on his birthday to prove he’s still alive” he counters.

Deucalion laughs then. “Oh, I am going to enjoy your company, I can tell that already” he says with an amused smirk.

“Twice yearly visits, a photo on his birthday, and you let me fuck you without complaining, and you never,ever, say no to me. Deal?”

“Deal” agrees Noah, and he ignores the tears rolling down his face.

 

* * *

 

 

Deucalion doesn’t take him for a test drive in the rooms.

Deucalion doesn’t even touch him for the first few days as he settles into his new home, his new life.

Instead he has him fitted for clothing suitable for public appearances, has his hair cut, sends him to a dentist to have his teeth whitened, and turns him into a poster boy for the Werewolf Protective Care Act.

Noah has to admit, when he sees the before and after photos that are taken, even he’s impressed.

He’s surprised to find that he enjoys the wolf’s company.

Deucalion is charming, and clever, and lets Noah speak his mind when they’re in private, and he’s relieved beyond measure when he realises that the wolf wasn’t joking about wanting more than just a fucktoy.

Deucalion takes him out for his first public appearance that night, some insignificant public event, the opening of a community centre or some such thing, he’s not really paying attention. Instead he concentrates on smiling and saying nothing, and not flinching when Deucalion’s hand rests on the small of his back as he pulls him close for the cameras.

As they’re leaving Deucalion whispers “You look very fine in that suit Noah. I do believe I’ll have to peel you out of it when we get home.”

And Noah thinks of his skinny, defenseless eight year old son, and nods stiffly.

 

* * *

 

Deucalion does indeed peel the suit off him, but first he pours him a large scotch. Noah looks at it, eyebrows raised. “I thought alcohol wasn’t allowed?” he questions, even as he looks longingly at the glass.

“Tonight’s an exception. I thought you might need some help to relax – you seem very tense” Deucalion replies smoothly.

Noah throws the drink back in one gulp, shivering at the familiar burn of it. He holds the glass out to Deucalion hopefully, telling him “I don’t think one’s going to do it, frankly.”

“One might not, but two will have to. The last thing I want is a frightened, aggressive drunk in my bed” Deucalion counters. He pours Noah a second drink though, and he does pour generously.

Noah drinks it even more quickly than the first, and it’s been a long time since he had a drink, so the effects hit him fast.

He sits down, feeling his limbs relax, and closes his eyes, breathing deeply.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and opens his eyes to see Deucalion crouched in front of him, looking at him intently.

“I meant what I said when I acquired you, Noah. I’m not interested in fighting you for this.  But it is going to happen. Please believe me when I tell you I’ll try and make it tolerable for you, at least.”

He pulls Noah to his feet then, and Noah goes without protest, a mantra of _Stiles Stiles Stiles_ running through his mind as he forces himself to relax further.

Deucalion takes off his jacket and tie, and unbuttons his vest before stripping it off him, all with a calm efficiency. There’s no haste to his actions, no urgency, and Noah almost relaxes, right up until Deucalion puts his hands on his face and pulls him in for a kiss.

He gasps and pulls back a little instinctively, but Deucalion’s grip is firm, and he holds him there as he kisses him once more, before releasing him.

“Remember our deal, Noah.”

Noah nods, but a sob breaks from his throat. “I remember, and I’ll do it, I will, but” he hesitates “I’ve only ever kissed my wife before, that’s all. It was a shock.”

Deucalion hums.

“No kissing, then, at least for now “he concedes.

“Thank you” whispers Noah, aware of how pathetic he sounds.

“I want you to enjoy this eventually, you know” Deucalion tells him.

Noah doubts that will ever happen, but he wisely stays silent.

 

* * *

 

 

Noah doesn’t cry, not at first, not when it’s just fingers.

But he sure as hell doesn’t enjoy it, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

And later, later he screams.

Deucalion strips the rest of his suit off him, slowly, methodically, making appreciative noises as he eyes Noah’s firmly muscled chest and long cock, even though it just hangs there, limp and useless.

He leads him to the bedroom, everything about his actions gentle, guiding rather than forcing, and somehow, thinks Noah, that makes it worse, because later, he won’t even be able to tell himself the lie that he fought back.

Once they pass the threshold of the bedroom, Deucalion speaks.

“Noah, I can see you’re struggling with this. I won’t lie, I want you, and I have no intention of stopping once I start. But I think it would be easier for you, if in here, in the bedroom, I help you remember your place. Just in case you start thinking you have a choice about what’s going to happen.”

He pauses.

“In here, you have no name. When we’re in bed, you will only ever be slave, so you don’t ever forget that you‘re mine. It’s for your own good.”

Noah nods.

“To bed now, slave” says Deucalion, and there’s a predatory gleam in his eye.

Noah, strangely enough, feels grateful for the distinction.

Slave, Noah tells himself as Deucalion pushes him onto his stomach and holds his ass cheeks apart, exposing him to his view.

Slave, he tells himself as fingers prod and poke and stretch at him gently.

Slave, he gasps, as the fingers are made slick with something and forced inside him, causing his eyes to water.

When a third finger is added though, he swears, and tries to pull away instinctively.

Deucalion lets him, too.

And then he’s left lying there in the bed, naked and slicked up, and Deucalion makes no move to bring him closer, he just hums.

“Quite attractive, that boy of yours” he observes idly. “I’m sure someone would snap him up, given the chance.”

“No! You promised!” accuses Noah.

‘So did you!“ Deucalion spits back.

“You promised me willing, yet there you are, all the way up the bed, and here I am, with no slave to fuck. Should I consider our deal off?”

Noah’s never moved so fast in his life as he scoots back down the bed and lays flat on his stomach, hands holding his ass open, saying “I’m sorry,  I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve never, with a man I mean, and it hurt, and instinct, I won’t move, I promise” babbling and pleading, because the thought of his son going through anything like this kills him, and he’ll do anything to prevent that – hell, if Deucalion wants to see him take a marching band up his ass he’ll do it, for Stiles.

“Better, slave” Deucalion tells him.

“Honestly, I can’t tell you I won’t hurt you. I’m big, and you’ll feel it. But I won’t hurt you _deliberately_.  However, if you try and get away again, I’ll have your boy sold within the hour, eight years old or no”.

Noah wanders how he had ever thought he could like this man.

He closes his eyes, and tells him “Go ahead, then. At least make it quick.’’

Deucalion doesn’t make it quick.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was big, and he doesn’t want to injure Noah, because that would mean waiting for him to heal and humans take so long, sometimes it’s _days_ before they recover.

So he goes back to using three fingers and lube, stretching and pulling and rubbing at Noah’s rim, ignoring the choked off cries of pain, because this is necessary, it’s for Noah’s own good, and he’ll thank him  later, when he’s able to take his cock.

The fourth finger, when he forces it in, causes Noah to howl and arch his back, but he doesn’t try to get away, just gasps out a string of curses through his tears. His hands are fisted in the sheets and his knuckles are white, and Deucalion can see the pain etched on his face.

Well, he thinks, he did warn him.

He twists his fingers slowly around, and decides that it’s as good as it’s going to get, short of putting his whole hand in there.

He pulls his hand out and Noah gasps in relief.

Deucalion slicks up his cock, his own clothing long discarded, and settles in behind Noah on the bed. He pulls him up by his hips so that he’s kneeling, and pushes forwards without warning.

He only gets the first inch of his thick cock in before Noah’s crying and begging for mercy, saying “please, please, for the love of God, take it out!”

“You don’t mean that, slave” Deucalion tells him, as he forces more of himself inside with difficulty.

Even with all the stretching, it’s deliciously tight.

“It’s nothing you didn’t agree to, remember” he pants, and slams his hips forwards, and he’s over halfway now, the hardest part is over, for him at least. He’s always found that once the first six inches are in, the rest seems to follow more easily.

“Now try and relax, all that tension’s only making it harder on yourself“ he chides.

And he holds Noah by the hips and drives home all the way.

Noah screams, and as Deucalion pulls out he sees that he’s bleeding a little, but it’s nothing serious, and certainly not enough to stop him as he sets a harsh  pace, pumping in and out quickly, efficiently, leaving Noah no time to catch his breath or do anything but endure the pounding. 

His body is shaking with the pain of the assault, and he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, held in place as he is.

Deucalion doesn’t take long to reach his peak, but for Noah it feels like hours pass as he endures the burning pain and his body tries to make sense of the intrusion. There could never be pleasure in this, he thinks, and wonders how he’ll ever manage to agree to it again.

His life stretches out in front of him then, an endless series of days and nights getting fucked like this, and he sobs harder.

Deucalion thrusts forwards one last time and then goes still as he fills his slave, and Noah wants to throw up at the feeling of another man pumping his seed inside him.

 _Stiles_ , he thinks desperately. _For Stiles_.

Deucalion pulls out, and Noah can feel him pulling at his rim, inspecting it for damage. He hisses at the sharp pain it causes.

“Nothing too serious, you’ll recover in no time. You did well, slave” Deucalion tells him.

Noah’s face is pressed into the pillow, and he’s not even trying to hide his tears and distress.

“I’m glad you think so” he chokes out.

“Now now, none of that” Deucalion scolds. “What were you expecting, honestly? You’re lucky I waited as long as I did.”

Noah turns his face away.

Deucalion strokes his hair then, pretending not to notice as he flinches.

“Noah” he says softly.

Noah shakes his head. “Slave, in here” he chokes out.

‘Not afterwards, only during” Deucalion amends his earlier edict.

And he repeats his name, then, softly “Noah”.

Noah turns to him.

“I meant what I said. You did well. I know this is all new, and I know it will take you time to adjust. But I’m confident you’ll grow to enjoy it, given time. I won’t force you to orgasm today, because I can see you’re upset, but I’ll want that in the future, just so you know.”

Noah, who can’t think of anything worse, says nothing.

Deucalion is surprisingly gentle as he gets a cloth and wipes Noah down, and applies salve to his reddened hole, and leaves him curled up in the bed with instructions to stay there as long as he wants, all night if he’d like.

 

* * *

 

Noah’s not sure if he’s relieved or disgusted the first time that Deucalion takes him and he feels something other than pain. Not quite pleasure, but something.

It’s taken months to get there. It took weeks for him even to stop tensing up at Deucalion’s touch. And longer after that for him to stop crying out at that first push forwards.

But Deucalion’s been patient with him, and during the day when they’re working together in the office or attending functions, he can almost forget what happens at night.

And it’s almost worse because it’s _not_ every night, like he’d been expecting.

So he’s in a constant state of anticipation.

Will it be today? How long has it been? It’s been three nights, surely it will be tonight?

But sometimes, Deucalion brings him into the big bed and does nothing more than look at him and touch him.

Sometimes, he pulls and strokes at Noah’s cock until it starts to harden despite himself. He’s learned to just close his eyes and let it happen. 

The first time Deucalion took him in his mouth, it had taken all his willpower to breathe through it and lay still instead of bolting like he wanted to.  To his shame, he’d come quickly and noisily, and Deucalion had praised him for it.

Two days later, he’d received a picture of Stiles, even though it wasn’t his birthday and it wasn’t anywhere near six months. His boy looked well, and was even smiling. He’d grown. Noah had put the photo carefully away into his drawer, and thanked Deucalion.

And that night he’d let the picture fill his mind as Deucalion prepared him carefully and then fucked him gently, and he barely noticed that he was crying as he thought of his boy, and maybe this wasn’t so bad if it meant his Stiles was OK.

 

* * *

 

Six months to the day after he makes his deal with Deucalion, they go on a trip.

They stay at a hotel.

Deucalion brings Stiles to see him in their hotel room, and then he has a sudden and unexpected meeting that he simply must go to, and he leaves them alone together for the entire day, although he’s careful to lock them in the room as he leaves. No need to confuse kindness with stupidity, after all.

Stiles throws himself into his father’s arms, and they’re both smiling and laughing and crying at the same time, and they hold each other tightly as they sob.

‘I thought I’d never see you again” whispers Stiles into Noah’s neck.

“Hey, kiddo, you didn’t think I’d let that happen, did you?’ Noah lies.

They spend the day just being together, and Stiles doesn’t tell Noah about how the camp he’s at is overcrowded and sometimes there are rats and he’s always hungry, and Noah doesn’t tell Stiles the price that he pays for his son’s safety.

And later, after Stiles ~~is taken~~ leaves, Deucalion just holds him as he cries, and asks for nothing.

After that, every six months, there’s a trip. Sometimes Deucalion leaves them together overnight, but not often, because he finds that when he does, Noah is withdrawn for days afterwards, and just lays there listlessly when he fucks into him. He’s gotten used to Noah being at least agreeable to a good fucking, and he enjoys it considerably less when he’s like this.

* * *

 

Eight months.

It takes eight months for Deucalion to coax an orgasm out of Noah just on his cock, and it takes him fingering him and teasing his prostate mercilessly first. But he’s determined.

A wolf only has so much patience after all, and Noah should be used to it by now, and starting to enjoy himself, Deucalion decides.

A happy bed slave is a willing bed slave, after all.

So he rubs and teases against the nub until Noah is hard and leaking and begging for more, and then he slides in carefully, and rubs the bundle of nerves with every stroke, and Noah gasps as he comes after a bare handful of strokes. Deucalion stills inside him, letting him recover, before pressing back in and chasing his own release. Noah’s sensitive, and cries out, and Deucalion considerately pulls out and strokes himself until he’s coming across his slave’s back.

He rubs the sticky liquid into Noah’s skin, marking him as his, indulging his wolf.

Noah just lays there, still panting.

Deucalion waits until Noah’s back with him, and whispers to him “I told you you’d come to like it, given time. It can be like that always, you know, if you let it.”

Noah doesn’t answer him.

He’s busy wondering when it was exactly that he stopped hating Deucalion for what he does and started wanting to please him.

 

* * *

 

Noah always thought that he’d play the game until Stiles was twelve, and that by then he’d be able to persuade Deucalion to bring his son to live with them.

He didn’t count on Deucalion’s career skyrocketing like it has.

He didn’t count on the high death rate of children in the camps, and the scarcity of attractive young boys.

As Deucalion explains to him “Honestly Noah, how would it look, when there’s a shortage of young human males, if I took one of the very best for myself, when everybody knows I already have you? The election's in six months, it would be the end of my career, and I’m damned if I’ll lose to Argent.”

He breaks down and begs, but Deucalion won’t be moved.

He tries refusing to sleep with him, just once.

“What’s the point? If it’s not keeping my boy safe, why bother?“ he snaps out.

Deucalion regards him steadily, arms folded.

“I thought after four years, maybe your reasons had changed” is all he says.

And he turns and walks out of the big bedroom, and Noah doesn’t see him for two days.

When he returns, he’s distant and makes no demands on Noah’s body at all.

He still uses him around the office, still sends him on errands, but at night he doesn’t touch him.

Noah waits for the other shoe to drop, but three weeks pass and still nothing happens.

Deucalion has his things moved to the spare room.

And Noah lies awake at night, unused to being alone and untouched.

Then Deucalion tells him he thinks he’ll take another bed slave, since Noah isn’t interested.

“You can’t!” he blurts out.

Deucalion looks at him coolly and asks him “Really? Why on earth not? You’ve made it clear you consider that part of our deal over, and there’s nothing more I can do for your son, so I’m no longer useful to you. It makes sense for me to sell you and replace you with a more willing candidate.”

He pauses.

“Someone younger, perhaps”.

Noah pales.

He can’t stand the thought of some young thing taking his place. 

Deucalion's his. Or he's Deucalion's, he's not sure which.

he takes a deep breath and swallows his pride, and begs.

“Please, please, Deucalion, forgive me, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ll come back to bed, I promise.”  He stammers out.

“Willingly? Pliantly? Eagerly? Because I’m not interested in fucking a limp body, not when I know how responsive you can be” Deucalion challenges.

 

Noah breaks, then. He walks over to Deucalion, and for the only time since their first time together, he leans in and kisses him softly, breaking that last taboo. He hopes Claudia will forgive him.

“So, you’ll come back to bed?” Deucalion asks when he pulls away.

“I’ll come back to bed. I miss you” Noah tells him, and tries not to think too hard about the feeling that’s something like relief settling in his belly.

Deucalion calls his office, and they don’t leave the house for three days.

He fucks Noah relentlessly, and he kisses him every chance he gets, and he leaves hickeys all over his body.

He’s marking his territory, after all.

* * *

 

When Noah gets the news that Stiles has been sold shortly after his thirteenth birthday, he hopes that he has an owner as kind as loving as Deucalion.

It took some time, but he understands his master better now, and knows that he only wants the best for him.

Humans, after all, need someone to tell them what to do.

 

 

 

 


	2. The end.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the end, the choice is easy.

“Are you sure, Noah?” Deucalion asks him, watching as he packs the last of his things.

“I’m sure. I’m a free man now, and it’s my decision to make” Noah replies, giving Deucalion a hesitant smile.

“Yes, yes you are”.

He smiles softly at Noah.

Noah looks around the now empty room, the one they’ve called his for so long, even though he’s only slept here a handful of times over the years.

He carries the box with the last of his scattered belongings and places it inside the door of the big bedroom – their room now, officially.

 

He’d thought long and hard when Deucalion had come to him and offered to help him start a new life alone, if he wanted.

He’d thought about their early years, about how he’d thought Deucalion cruel to use his son against him as a bargaining chip. But then he'd thought about how Deucalion had kept his word, and kept Stiles safe for as long as he could.

And he’d thought about the middle years, where  they’d come to an understanding, and he’d accepted that this was as good as his life was going to get, and he’d just been grateful for the small kindnesses Deucalion showed him, aware it could be so much worse.

 

And finally, he’d thought about their later years.

The years when Deucalion had supported him through the loss of his son and the crippling depression that had hit him in its wake.

The years when Deuc had started the movement to overthrow the Protection Act, and fought tirelessly to make it happen.

The years when he’d realised that even if he could, he wouldn’t want to be without this man.

It’s not love, not exactly.

He’s not sure what to call it.

He turns to Deucalion and kisses him easily, and tells him “I’ve made my choice. I’m here to stay.”

* * *

 

 

They sleep together in the big bed that night, and Deucalion feels Noah’s hands tracing the muscles of his back as they lay together, and he feels his arm sneak around him, encircling his waist.

He feels Noah crawl up as close to him as possible, and feels his hand drop down and start to stroke his length, as he whispers "please, Deuc?".

And he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry when it hits him, suddenly, that in their fifteen years together, it's the first time that Noah's ever asked him for anything in the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really promise I'm done now.


End file.
